Passion
by Cindy Glidewell
Summary: When the snatcher gets his hands on her, Hermione needs to keep her friends alive, and change the way he thinks about her. Noncon,dark,romance, start during film, ScabiorxHermione
1. Chronicle I part I

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own anything. Well...a dirty mind... but hush, don't tell anyone!

**Summary: **Hermione can't cope with the way Scabior sees her. Now she has to try her best not only to survive but also to get things her way. ScabiorxHermione. Noncon at start, romance later on, adult situations, lemon, rated.

**NOTE:** I've started writing this fic as Chronicles. Chronicle I occurs during the film and has a lighter mood. Anyone who wants to be at the dark part should pop in at Chronicle II Yes, You've read that right. Chronicle II shall start when Scabior gets his hands on Hermione. It's also where the smut starts. Anyway... Enjoy ;D

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**Passion**

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_In Medieval Times wives were still expected to be submissive and obedient, and their 'place; was clearly in the home. The role of the wife was to generally be an obedient servant to her husband and a flawless mother to her children. This was the norm._

_- Arden Davidson_

**I**

Hermione closed the book with a moan and rubbed her eyes. She was tired, but not tired enough to go to sleep yet. Thoughts about recent events plagued her mind and she felt she could not close her eyes without seeing that strange mark appear in front of her again. A triangle, a line, and a circle. What could it mean? It had to mean something, she was sure about that.

Restless she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her make-shift bed. She tried wiggling her feet in the hope of getting the feel back in her legs and toes. It was clear that her body needed the rest. Her eyes were drooping and her limbs sore. Yet she jumped up onto her feet, agile as she was ignoring the pain and the sleep, and made her way out of the tent.

The sky had turned dark yet she brought a hand up to shield her eyes. It was an unnecessary action, of course, but it happened almost automatically.

"Harry?"

She whispered. But he did not appear to be in sight.

"Ron?"

She could hear the radio squeak and gurgle from somewhere behind her. He must be inside the tent. She let out a sigh of relief. If he was still inside that meant he was probably in his bed, preparing for sleep. He needed the rest more than any of them for his arm was still badly wounded. Hermione could curse herself for having her friend hurt this way. She blamed herself. It had all been her idea and she should have been faster. She should have tugged Ron away from that woman who kissed him – oh, and how jealous she felt at the thought of it – and just dragged him to one of the transport points. It could have saved them enough time to apparate to her destined location. Now she had to suddenly think of something new, somewhere else, and cursed the woods around her. They were cold, damp and gave her the creeps.

Wrapping her arms around her shoulders as if to keep her warm she trudged forward, hearing the crunching of leaves underneath her feet and looking up at the darkness, trying to distinguish the tops of the trees to see if there were any birds in them. She saw none, though a tiny blur passed her vision and she imagined it might have been a small bat.

With a sigh she leant against a tree bark, gazing off into the distance. She had left the tent behind her and inhaled the fresh air of the midnight woods. How stupid she had been for allowing Ron to be hurt this way. How annoying it was now that he could not travel for and wide. She once again blamed herself for not being able to heal him properly and fully. She had wanted to, would have given anything to have him fully cured.

Hermione shook her head and gazed at the sky again. The moon was obscured by clouds and she got an eerie feeling taking hold of her again. It made her stomach churn, feeling nauseated by nothing in particular and taking a step away from the tree. She glanced over her shoulder at the tent, not seeing her two friends. She might have cast many a protecting spell already but she still felt unsafe. And thus she made up her mind and took her wand, saying a few more spells as she walked further and further away from their hideout.

One shield after another was formed, layer upon layer of protecting and deflecting membranes of spells and enchantments formed to keep her and her friends safe.

Harry had appeared by the tent, popping his head out of the opening before stepping out fully, his wand in his hand. He sat down as if to guard, but in fact just watched how his friend was trying to make them all a safe place to be. It made him feel warm to know she was doing this for them. Not only for him but also for Ron.

The ginger had been right.

They wouldn't last two days without Hermione.

The young witch was casting another spell when suddenly a twig snapped close to where she was. It made her alert, stand up straight, her breathing shallow as she froze. There in front of her snatchers had appeared. They had come from over the small hill, and she could smack her head for not having noticed them any sooner. Her guard was down, absolutely. Perhaps the day had been too tiring or her after all, perhaps it was because she should have gone to bed and sleep. But somehow she wasn't as alert as she normally was. Had her eyes been drooping again that she had missed the first sign of their presence? Her breath hitched in her throat. But it was too late now.

The group of men, carrying muggles over their shoulders as if their lives weren't worth the cash they would receive for handing them in, had come to a halt only meters away from her. They'd stopped at the sign of their leader. Their words and the conversation that followed sounded dull to Hermione's ears. The many layers of protecting charms seemed to muffle their speech as the leader stepped towards her. He came to a halt in front of her, sniffed the air, his blue eyes piercing right through her. No matter how dark the woods, it was as if he saw her.

And then she realised he did not, but he had smelled her perfume.

Her eyes slightly widened.

Her perfume had given her away.

Scared, that the man in front of her would take a step forward, she didn't even notice how his hand reached out and almost touched the shield of magic that protected her. The first ripple of magic wavering could be seen, but luckily they were both too distracted to notice. If the snatcher had seen it or had felt it, he would have known she was there. But the delicious scent that had reached his nostrils had distracted him and made it hard for him to focus. He had not felt it, or perhaps had thought it to be a bit of evening wind brushing past his flesh. Hermione was too focussed on standing still. Adrenaline had started to pump through her body as suddenly all sleep had left her.

One of the snatchers called out for their boss, Hermione could not hear the exact words. And then the snatcher in front of her turned away.

He had been so close to her.

As Scabior joined his fellow snatchers he grumbled something to them. Hermione watched him go, his tight pants catching her attention which then went to his boots. He had long legs.

Had he found out about her presence she'd never been able to get away from him. She'd never outrun him. Just as she was about to turn around she heard Harry's voice. It startled her and made her heart beat even wilder.

"Yes," She retorted to him. "It is good to know my enchantments work."

And watched how he offered her his hand. Thinking nothing bad of it she accepted his offer and walked back to the tent with him, laughing and smiling as he told her how he had watched the scene unfold and how silly the snatchers had been for not noticing their presence.

"Though that one man, he knew someone was there." Harry said.

"Yes, he smelled my perfume. I'm sure of it, Harry." She replied and smiled at him.

"Just don't wear it again, Hermione." Her friend replied. "It's not as if Ron would notice, he wears the perfume himself." They both laughed loudly as they reached the tent.

Hermione wondered if Harry's words had been true.


	2. Chronicle I part II

**AU: **I just realised I hadn't mentioned this before… And most of you must have been wondering about it. WHERE IS SCABIOR? Well, he will be here soon. I'm just working up to his arrival now and toying with Hermione's feelings a bit. I was inspired by watching the film again a few days ago. I apologise for short chapters. If you like the story then please review and make me a happy author ;D For now have fun reading!

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own anything. Well...a dirty mind... but hush, don't tell anyone!

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"How will he find us again?"

Hermione wondered how Harry could be as confident as he was. Perhaps Ron didn't regret leaving. Perhaps he would stay away.

"He will come back, trust me. But how will he know where we are?"

Hermione lifted her head, her eyes betraying sadness. She hated it when her friends quarrelled. She hated it when they had fights. She hated it when the fights escalated. It was as if Harry had read her mind and tried to comfort her, cheer her up even. And the witch had to admit he was probably right.

"It's that dreaded necklace." She said, her voice hoarse and the words spoken through gritted teeth. "Harry, that locket is making us evil. I've seen it. You've seen it. You've seen him." She motioned helplessly with her hands. "He was like Gollum holding the ring."

Harry folded his arms in front of his chest and lifted an eyebrow. "Gollum? Ring?" And Hermione quickly had to defend herself. "It's a muggle story." She retorted, a look of worry on her face again. "Ron reminded me of him. You reminded me of him."

Harry chuckled. "As long as he's handsome."

Hermione opted not to reply to that and glance away instead.

The tent was cold now that Ron had left. She regretted his absence and felt it eating at her heart, gnawing her from the inside. He had become like a parasite, always inhabiting her thoughts. Whenever she closed her eyes she could imagine hearing his laughter and it made her sad. Of course she'd known he was more than a friend to her when she'd seen him around Lavender. She'd been truly jealous that time. But now that he wasn't near her anymore but far away, now she knew she cared about him. "But as a friend." She murmured. She shook her head and watched the tree at the far end of the forest. It looked cold and barren, the bark containing many scratches. How was he to find them back?

Harry followed her gaze and also looked at the trees. The forest was dense, though there was a small clearing ahead of them. He frowned. They needed to find a way to catch Ron's attention. "What about a letter?" He mused.

Hermione let her right hand fall into her lap and sighed. "Harry, be reasonable. If any of the Death Eaters finds it we're screwed. And besides, we don't know where we'll be heading."

He had to give her that. She was right.

"I was thinking more about crumbs. Like Hansel and Gretel." Once again she had earned herself a quizzical look from her friend and rolled her eyes. "A fairy tale, Harry. They leave crumbs as a trail." Then she paused. 'But only to find their way back home."

Harry glance dup at the treetops. "Then we would be home and Ron would be the one searching us."

Hermione smiled brightly now. "Exactly. It could work. If it hadn't been for the many birds around. They will eat our trail."

Harry sighed. "And once again it would be too tricky." She knew he had a point and frowned.

"Face it, Hermione, there is no way your muggle tales can help us now." His words hurt her feelings and she snapped her head to look at him, her eyes filled with anger and hurt. But no matter how they looked at the situation it was almost impossible to leave Ron a trail. Harry stepped back to the tent. "Let's pack our things and leave." He disappeared inside, leaving Hermione to think on her own.

She was seated with her arms wrapped around her legs, hugging her knees, and her back leaning against the bark of a tree. Each time she drew a breath she could see small clouds drift up. The forest was cold. She shivered and closed her eyes. "Mother." She whispered.

Memories of her childhood had been filling her recently. She had needed them to apparate them all into safety. But she had not been telling her friends how much the memories drained her emotionally. She knew her parents would not remember them, and they would never recognise her again. Not as their child.

Her hands moved upwards, burying her head in her palms to try and keep from crying. 'Come on, Hermione.' She thought to herself. 'Be strong.' Wasn't she always the one others could depend on? The one to come up with solutions and stay strong when everyone else had crumbled? "Father." She needed them. She realised she needed someone to help her.

The task she and Harry had to fulfil was too dangerous and too heavy for two teenage wizards, she knew that. And even she could not stay strong on her own. She needed someone to support her. "Someone, please." She whispered.

Then almost automatically she moved onto her feet. It was an impulse, she did not know why she was doing this. Her hands moved up her chest to rest on her scarf. One foot was placed in front of another. 'I need help.' Was all she could think.

"Wonderful Idea, Hermione." Harry piped as he had emerged from the tent. He watched her with apprehension as she slowly removed her scarf and, shivering from cold and emotions, wrapped it around the lonely and carved bark, then tied it into a knot.

She glanced up at the tree. "Now Ron has a way to find us." Hermione looked at him, confused. She had not thought of Ron when she had wrapped her scarf around the tree. "Yes," She hesitatingly replied. "Yes, now they can find us."

She took Harry's hand and they disapparated.

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Time passed by at an unfair rate and Hermione found herself being nervous. She twisted and curled a lock of her hair around her own finger, toying with it as she tried to read one of her many books. It was research. She still hadn't found out what that symbol meant.

But she couldn't focus. Somehow she was now worried by one of the silliest things ever.

Her scarf.

Had she been smart leaving it behind? Why had she even done it? And for pity's sake it was her favourite! How could she have been so mindlessly foolish to leave it on a tree. If Ron hadn't found it – and she doubted it, besides if he had she doubted he would know where they had apparated to. DUH! – then who had? Suppose one of Lord Voldemort's cronies had passed by and found the item.

Why was she feeling this bad?

She placed the book aside and groaned. "I shouldn't have hung it." She complained. "Not my favourite. I should have taken the blue one!"

Behind her the radio was switched on and for a moment she jumped, thinking it was Ron who had found her scarf and had followed them. But then she realised that thought was just illogical and she relaxed again when she saw Harry stepping up to her.

He offered her his hand and she took it. A small smile slipped on her face. This was Harry, her best friend since she'd entered Hogwarts, a boy who had always respected her for who she was. He started a clumsy waltz with her and she could not help but laugh at his attempt to cheer her up. Behind her muggle music sounded. And she grinned. Nick Cave wasn't a muggle but a half-blood. She wondered how many wizards would know that. She guessed there wasn't a single muggle who knew.

With a brighter smile on her face now, the thoughts and the music amused her as well as the way Harry was dancing, she started to move with him. Her eyes locked with his twinkled in joy. She almost forgot about the bad feeling she had.

Almost.

But then Harry spun her around, his smile grew, and he brought her back close to him, pressing his body against hers and bringing his head close to hers.

Hermione's eyes popped wide.

She had thought it to be nothing more than a friendly act to cheer her up, but now she doubted it. With all the force she could muster she pushed him away.

"No, Harry."

And she left him behind, retreating to the side of the tent. She could not see Harry's eyes sadden as she walked away from him.

This was not what she wanted.


	3. Chronicle I part III

**AU: **I apologize for my absence these past two days, I was unable to get onto the computer and write. So here's another chapter. Enjoy! Next one should be up tomorrow.

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What a bloody day it had been. Really.

As Scabior sat down with a bottle of firewhisky in his hand and flipped his feet up high he groaned. "What a bloody day!" He said out loud, amusing his fellow men with his words of comfort. His hand shot up to rub his own eyes which seemed to hurt, or perhaps it was just because his mind hurt. The past events had frustrated him to no end. Although he would not admit it out loud his day had been the usual apart from one thing. One tiny event that day had drastically changed his mood and made him more grumpy than usual. That scent.

It frustrated him that he hadn't been able to find out what the source of the scent had been. And even now as he sat on a chair at the snatcher's camp, with his head thrown back and his eyes closed, he could recall that lovely scent he'd smelled. So sweet, so tasty. And so much affecting him.

He still remembered the exact spot in the forest where he'd come by it. As he rubbed his eyes once more he thought back of what had happened.

"What's that?" He had paused and slowly walked back a few steps.

"What's that smell?"

He took a deep breath and just stared at her, though he could not see her. The moment seemed to last for ages, until one of his fellow snatchers had dropped the body of an unconscious traitor on the ground and by that had caught his attention. "What are you doing?" He went over to the young boy, asking him why he'd just did that. Was the body too heavy? "Pick it up."

They had to continue onwards. Scabior groaned and took a gulp from his bottle of drink before eyeing it to see he'd drained the bottle at a total. Now he still hadn't found the source of the lovely scent, perhaps the one to whom it belonged had long since left? But that didn't mean his mind couldn't work its own sweet fantasies. He could see her, a girl, with long hair and pretty eyes. A nice figure as well. He could feel his body ache for her already.

But she wasn't real and he sat up whilst letting an agitated cry and throwing the empty bottle through the air. It smashed to pieces only inches away from Radagast, the snatcher who'd dropped the body earlier on.

No one dared to say a thing to him.

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"Hermione, I have been thinking." Harry said, his eyes everywhere but on her as he moved his left hand into his right. "I want to Godric's Hollow."

Hermione could feel her jaw wanting to drop but she managed to compose herself. These past few days had been filled with a lot of thinking, of both of them. They hadn't stopped moving for they had to complete their search, but each moment they had spent near the tent they'd tried to do research one way or another. Especially for Hermione the books offered her comfort. When she had one open in front of her she didn't need to pay much attention to Harry, who started to behave more and more possessively and irritated around her, and she didn't have to think and worry about Ron so much. She wondered where he was and what might be happening to him. She just prayed he was all right.

"It's where I was born, it's where my parents died." Her friend continued and she looked up at him to search his face for any signs of him joking. He wasn't.

"That's exactly where he'll expect you to go because it means something to you."

Harry's eyes glistened yet he still didn't look her in the eyes. He was avoiding that. She knew he must still be feeling ashamed of his actions earlier on with the dance. Inwardly it made her smile because it meant he was still her friend and still caring for her. He respected the fact that she hadn't chosen for him and she admired him for that.

"Yeah, but it means something to him too, Hermione. You-know-who almost died there. Isn't that exactly the type of place he'd be likely to hide a horcrux?"

"I- " Hermione was at a loss for words. She wanted to stop Harry from going there, knowing that whatever awaited them would mean danger and an adventure they might not be able to survive. She wanted to stop him so badly. But then she caught his gaze as he lowered it from her face down her chest and to her feet. "It is dangerous, Harry." She tried again.

But then again, what other option did they have left? Both of them were clueless about where to find the next horcrux and every suggestion was worth the investigation.

"But even I have to admit recently I've been thinking we'll have to go there."

Harry gave her a faint smile as she took a few steps away from him and towards the tent. They had to pack their belongings and move on.

"I think it's possible something else is hidden there."

And with a frown her mind wandered off. She could hear Harry continuing chatting to her but her own worries now surfaced. She had a strange feeling inside of her, a foreboding, as if something important had just happened.

Had Ron found her scarf?

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He came to a halt. It was that delicious scent again, this time he was sure. His hand reached out for the scarf, gently brushing his fingertips past the fabric, as he cocked his head to study the pink pattern.

It was a wonderful scarf and with a lovely scent.

He carefully untied the knot, taking his time, and then removed the scarf from the tree. He brought it up close to his nose, inhaling the scent and closing his eyes. He could feel his blood pumping through his veins at the perfume that was on there, but also another scent he could smell. Something more personal. He imagined the girl it belonged to and opened his eyes again. He wanted to find her no matter what the cost.

"Spread." He ordered. His fellow snatchers hurried to hide behind different trees and some ducked down onto the ground. He then turned to Radagast who was still at his side.

"Whoever left this 'ere 'as left us a clear sign." He chuckled.

"We will be waiting for 'er."


	4. Chronicle I part IV

**AU:** I'm sorry for the mix and max of the events here xD But I just had to add another unexplained event in the film version to this story and sort of forgot to do it earlier on. Enjoy reading! Oh, and in case someone was wondering; yes, the story will soon divert from the film and books and become more dark and adult themed. The moment Scabby gets Mione in his hands everything changes. _So you'll be warned._

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She was more than happy with his return. It meant she had been given back her friend, and the best thing was that he didn't seem to be as angry and upset anymore as he'd been before. Yet, she couldn't show it to him that she was glad to see him again. No, she had great difficulty telling him she was happy. Why? For the simple few reasons that he had left her and Harry behind, that he had abandoned their mission, that he had only said 'hi' when he'd returned and that he hadn't found them by her scarf.

"Aren't you happy to see me again?" He'd asked her, sounding quite teasing.

"Oh, shut up, Ron. I'd rather date a snatcher than seeing you again!"

She obviously hadn't meant her words. She'd just been angry and had stalked off afterwards, leaving Ron and Harry to fend for themselves.

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There it was. That lovely scent again. Scabior's eyes opened wide as he heaved himself from the chair which stood in a dark corner of the room. He was instantly alert. "Men, Someone's in 'ere." He called out and watched how his crew jumped onto their feet. Their list had been taking them from the forest to town, and would eventually bring them back to the forest again. They'd just taken a 'coffee break', which would better be called a 'quick nap and scotch break' with their newest victims tied and gagged at their feet when Scabior had noticed it again. That scent he'd smelled before when he'd been in the forest. "Wonderful." He whispered and wringed his hands. He couldn't believe he could be so bloody lucky. With a perverted grin on his face he made his way to the door. "Did anyone check the backroom?"

When all his men shook their heads he sighed, obviously displeased. "Nut'eads!" He scolded them before taking Radagast by his collar. "Go in there and check." The young male was pushed into the backroom which was dark and damp. Scabior followed swift. If the girl was indeed in here then he wouldn't want to miss the chance of meeting her. Imagine that Radagast would decide to kill her off and she was indeed the beauty he'd imagined. Now that would be something he needed to prevent.

Silently, only their breathing could be heard, they advanced into the room step by step. Radagast held out his wand and whispered 'Lumos'. A faint light started to glow at the tip of his wand, shining their way through the backroom. There, in the window seat, a figure was huddled. Arms wrapped around itself, the person seemed to be asleep as they slowly stepped closer and closer. Scabior took a deep breath. Yes, he wasn't mistaken. This was her. His long hand reached out for her, but then Radagast nudged him and he retracted his hand again. "My task, right boss?" The young man asked him and Scabior grunted silently before responding through gritted teeth. "Yes, your task." He'd not been sleeping well after his meeting with 'the scent' inside the forest. The unknown entity which belonged to it had become more and more of an obsession to him and he needed to know who she was. He just had to find out. He just had to.

A low chuckle escaped the snatcher's throat as Radagast placed the tip of his wand against the person's head, trailing it down to the chin to use a spell. He was just opening his mouth to use 'stupefy' when their victim stirred, opened eyes, and sat up.

The chuckling had come to cease as Ron turned his head. "Bloody Snatchers." He growled, immediately having reached for his wand. Scabior's face turned into a scowl. "Get 'im!" he yelled. Within a moment his men had darted into the backroom, sending light bulbs to the ceiling to light it all up as Ron did a heroic high-kick to disarm the snatcher in front of him. Radagast was hit hard and stumbled backwards, yelping as he noticed there was blood on his hand. Ron had hit him against the nose, hard, and blood was gushing forth. The young male panicked. "B-B-Boss!"

Spells flew over and Ron miraculously managed to dodge them, pointing his wand as he rolled over the floor and yelling Expelliarmus to disarm his opponents. In one fluent movement he'd grabbed his bag, losing some of his stuff and trying to put it all back inside the bag when another spell hit him. He looked up in shock to find it had been Scabior who'd attacked him. Blood started to drip down his ear and he'd easily made his decision. He'd leave his stuff and take whatever he could before ending up in tiny little pieces. After shouting another spell the ginger made for the door.

Scabior fell down to the ground, being hit with great force by Ron's sudden outburst, and winced in pain. He struggled to get up again which gave Ron enough time to make it to the door.

When he found it blocked he had to turn again to face a room full of snatchers who were grinning evilly at him. He could feel sweat appear on his head as he started to giggle nervously, earning him a few raised eyebrows and odd looks. "I see candy behind you!"

To everyone's surprise, Ron's diversion seemed to work as The snatchers turned to look in the direction he had pointed. All but one, Scabior who was shouting to get the boy.

Ron could now easily pounce past the two snatchers who were blocking his way, accidently bumping against Radagast who in shock let go of his wand. Ron, whose hand had came to rest against the wand, automatically now became the owner of the wooden stick and rushed with it outside.

"I can't believe it!" Scabior shouted. "You let 'im go?"

* * *

"Bloody hell, I just realised…" Ron started as he sat next to Harry and turned his head to face his friend. "You need a wand, don't you?" Harry complied. "Yeah."

"I got one here." And Ron leant forward to reach for the item he had 'snatched' from Radagast.

"It's a Blackthorn, ten inches, nothing special, but I'll reckon it'll do."

Harry took the object from his friend's hands and studied it.

"I took it of a snatcher a couple of weeks ago."

This surprised him. He hadn't imagined Ron to be in a fight and actually surviving. A smile grew on his face as he turned to the ginger, glad that Ron had forgiven him for his little crush on Hermione, but still slightly envying him for being in love with her too. It therefore pleased Harry to see Hermione all angry on his best friend. He softly chuckled as Ron cleared his throat.

"Don't tell Hermione this, but they're a bit dim… snatchers."

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_AU: Ps. When I see how other stories get way more reviews I realise that as a non-native I might not be capable of writing fanfiction that pleases the Scabior fans... I'm not sure when I'll update the next chapter to any of my stories. _


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